paroles de chanson Mantra - Vore Complex

We are black wood bent under black stone
Smothered ships in aching sand
Hacked out by each sharpened hand
All hacked out by each sharpened hand
One wish short of a wishbone

And choking down eternity
We will not be warm
Harvest the best blood of the day
And then sell out the unborn

We are closer than the stars to night
Pissing acid turpentine
Screaming nerves in poisoned vines
The first death of the last light
One word racked out over time
Drum beats driven through with glass
Thin winds fingering the past
That mutter of mangled rhyme

And choking down eternity
We will not be warm
Harvest the best blood of the day
And then sell out the unborn

We are ash falling across skinned meat
As blunt as a bloodstained snow
Harp strings sold to loaded bows
Worn out shoes for worn out feet
All affordable taboos
Headaches without need for heads
Still better if left unsaid
Honest as all empty truth

And choking down eternity
We will never be warm
Harvest the best blood of the day
And then sell out the unborn
Pluck the wings from each broken god
And market them to the obscene
Choking down eternity
We will not be clean

And choking down eternity
Prepare for the coming storm
We will not be warm
Not now
We will not be warm
Choking down eternity
Prepare for the coming storm
We will not be warm
Not now
We will not be warm

All affordable taboos
Headaches without need for heads
Still better if left unsaid
Honest as all empty truth
And what is not me is you
And what is not me is you
And what is not me is you
And what is not me is you